Dark Master, Dark Titan
by Aguywhogames
Summary: The power that was released when Malefor ripped the world apart did not go unnoticed. Wrathion, seeing a Burning Legion attack as an inevitability, sends two of his champions to aid the residents of this world, not knowing exactly what awaits them, nor the catastrophic events that will effect everything. Set before Warlords of Draenor, after the events of the Siege of Orgrimmar.
1. Chapter 1

An echo rang across the universe. A burst of raw, unbridled power, Convexity, the power that could create or destroy worlds, flowed through in a pulse from the planet known by most of its inhabitants as "The Dragon Realms". While this name was not entirely accurate , as many other creatures besides dragons lived there, the echo rang out, uncaring to what or whom it affected, racing from planet to planet, alerting any creature with a capability to wield or sense magic from many worlds around. Every elf, mage, warlock , demon and dragon on Azeroth felt a rush of power. Spells being cast burned brighter and a few warlocks accidentally summoned the wrong demon. One poor soul ended up teleporting himself into the Maelstrom.

The flow faltered, and receded, taking with it the increase in power.

No one understood what it meant except the one remaining black dragon. He was observing the skies of the Valley of the Four Winds, and saw, with magically amplified sight beyond that of almost any other living thing, saw a world being pulled together. He stood and observed a black dragoness and a Twilight whelp, who were wreathed in purple energy. He smiled.

"Perhaps not all is lost for the black dragonflight"

"And why wouldn't it?, asked an impatient ethereal, who was eager to make the sale so he could go back to the Consortium with his head held high. He too had felt the pulse, however, and was worried about burning through his bindings, simply due to the rush of energy filling his magical form.

Wrathion smiled. "I'll buy it", he said gesturing to the telescope-like device in his hand. Then, pressing the gold into the ethereal's hand (or was it bandages supported with magic?) he walked off. Now, where was Yong?

Much, much further away, whole galaxies even, another force awakened, one known by some as the "Dark Titan", the Destroyer.

Sargeras, so wounded by the many battles he had fought, his soul torn in pieces from countless avatars created across the cosmos, stood from his throne, shaking off the dust that had formed over the long time since he had used his true form, albeit far smaller than it once had been.

The Convexity reignited the flames on his body, causing the same to happen to the braziers on the wall. He smiled the smile that had signified the death of millions. No more would he be bound to the body of some pathetic human, or unconscious. He was weak, by Titanic standards but he was alive.

He summoned his second in command, that worthless Eredar, with a single, brief incantation. No doubt Kil'jaeden was trying to take over the legion in Sargeras' stead. Pathetic.

Close by, the same energy fueled another being, the being that had created this energy in the first place. For the first time in almost 10 years, it ceased its mantra, the chanting that had kept it sane. It smiled widely, as its power turned the manacles binding its wrists to slag, which fell to the floor and hardened immediately.

It smiled before falling to the cold, rock floor , and slept normally for the first time in many years. Convexity energy sparked off of it, illuminating the cave, revealing, just for an instant, the other creature chained to the wall across from him.

**Hello all, I am Aguywhogames and this is my first attempt at a fanfiction,and I hope it's up to snuff. I do have a plan for this story, and I hope it stays coherent. Please review the many terrible mistakes I will make, so that I can correct them.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Avalar**

It had been 2 months since Malefor's defeat, and peace had returned to Warfang and the surrounding reigions. The remaining grublins, orcs, wyverns and trolls had either been hunted down by Warfang soldiers sent by the Guardians or had been found, dead from various burns and cuts. Presumably they had begun to fight among themselves, the death of their master creating a power vacuum and infighting.

Spyro and Cynder had been found on the third week, unconscious at the foot of the Mountain of Malefor. They were emaciated, dehydrated and at death's door. They had awoken on the day after, but they fell asleep quickly after, barely long enough to smile at Sparx. They recovered quickly enough, but could only stay conscious for short periods of time before falling asleep again. As they recovered they woke more often for longer periods, at one stage telling the guardians and Sparx the story of Ignitus' sacrifice and how they defeated Malefor. (Omitting the points when they had both fallen to darkness)

As the day of the former fire Guardian's funeral approached, and the preperations were made, they found themselves strong enough to stay awake for hours at a time and so prepared themselves accordingly, both for the strain of staying awake for long enough, and for the mental agony of losing Ignitus.

Azeroth, The Veiled Stair.

Wrathion paced the top of Mason's Folly, muttering to himself, "Where are they? I sent my messegers two days ago, they have not failed me before! My note said to be here at noon".

At this he looked at the sky, trying and failing to peer through the mist and see the sun.

"Damn"

From above him, he heard a distinct Gilnean accent say;

"Let me guess, we're late. By dragon time, at the least?"

Then, descending from the mist came two gryphons, one with bags hanging from the saddle, and the other armoured, seemingly ready for battle. They landed on either side of Wrathion, surrounding him. The speaker came from the gryphon laden with bags, a tall man in robes, with black hair and emerald green eyes, that were almost unnaturally bright. His robes were simple and grey, yet they gave off an aura that would have caused the hair on a normal person's neck to raise on end. Wrathion felt his aura, but was unimpressed by it. He had more than enough power to overcome anything the warlock could bring to bear against him.

From the other gryphon climbed another figure, the polar opposite to his companion. He wore armour that was seemingly Stormwind City Guard standard issue, although it was obviously made of a different material, a shiny, polished shade of grey. Trillium, perhaps. His sword, however, was longer than the standard issue, it was curved on both sides, and both curves lead to a sharp point. His shield, strapped to his back, bore the image of a snarling lion.

The Gilnean spoke again: "I think you should find a better base of operations, Wrathion, we almost crashed into the Black market on the way, and we can't afford to replace anything Madam Goya's selling"

"Indeed" replied Wrathion, shrugging off the statement. "Regardless, shall we attend to the business at hand? You may want to take a seat, this will take some time."

He gestured at two wooden chairs that had not been present when the humans had landed. They sat, as did their gryphons, sensing they might be grounded for a while.

"Today," said Wrathion, "I have a momentous task for you two, which is why I needed you to bring supplies"

The armoured rider spoke for the first time, cutting the pleasantries short. "Another pointless task for you? Can you tell us why we should trust you any more? You said yourself that your loyalties were your own. And why supplies? What are you planning this time?" He spoke with a voice that was surprisingly high pitched, given the seeming bulk of the man.

Wrathion walked over to the armoured rider.

"I am planning to save Azeroth, possibly more than that, from the Burning Legion. You don't need to trust me, but trust my hatred for them. Complete this last task, and all I can give to you, all the secrets and resources of the Black Dragonflight, the things Alextrasza would kill for, will be yours. All you have to do is help me one last time"

"Help you with what?" asked the Gilnean, rising from the chair.

"Many Alliance lives have been lost for your goals, our friends and allies. How many more until it is done?"

Wrathion smiled slightly.

"The task I would set you would cause no loss of Alliance life, at least not unless you got yourselves killed in the process, which is unlikely. If you would allow me to explain, please".

He walked to the edge of Mason's Folly and stared down at the bottom of the cliff. "It all started a month or two ago. I was stargazing, a pastime I quite enjoy, when I noticed a single, blazing purple star. I obtained a.. unique piece of equipment and cast a few spells to enhance my vision, which is something I like to think I am quite adept at, and I saw that it was no star". He paused for emphasis.

It was a world, like Azeroth, that seemed to be being ripped apart by this odd purple energy. I focused in some more, and suddenly the cracks started sealing. I looked further and saw, in the center, a huge crystal with two dragons on top, both young, little more than whelps really. One, a twilight by the looks of things, was single handedly pulling the entire world together. The other, a female, was...had black scales"

Ignoring the Gilnean, who opened his mouth to object, Wrathion carried on.

"I have observed this world since, and have found that the primary population of the world is a race of dragons, quite similar to that of Azeroth, and what is even stranger, their main language is identical to Common. Only last week I saw the reason I have summoned you here today".

"The Legion has taken notice as well, and a small number of demons have found their way onto the planet. Fortunately, they have been preoccupied with strange unnatural creatures that must have been summoned by a magician of some sort. Both of the young dragons have been returned safely to a city that seems to be the draconic capital. Can you guess what I would have you do?"

"Yeah" grunted the armoured figure. "Go to this world, kidnap the black dragon so you can rebuild you flight and come back."

Wrathion _hmphed_ and stared daggers at the armoured rider, seeming to ignore the insult.

"No, the task I would set would be to educate the locals on how to fight the Legion, then possibly assist them, if necessary, to repel the demon invasion, as those creatures cannot last forever. He took a deep breath, presumably to calm himself, before continuing.

"This", he said, bringing out a golden medallion from one of his many pockets "Will allow us to communicate. It is made from one of my own scales, changed by magic to this form. What ever you do, don't let the gem slip out of it's setting. Bad things happen when it does" He added, slightly mischievously.

"If you can, as a personal favour, try to get the dragoness to come here, of her own free will. I am sure that she is not.. tainted, as the rest of my flight was."

"Say we agreed" said the Gilnean, "How do you propose we go to this world?"

"That, my friends, is where my other friends come in"

He snapped his fingers and 5 ethereals appeared in a flash of light, flanking the riders.

The armoured rider sighed. "Why the theatrics?"

"So they'll accompany us?" asked the Gilnean, ignoring his companion.

"No. They will help you get there, but to get back, you will need to go to a place where magic already circulates in vast quantities. There are many such places in this world, they shouldn't be too hard to come by. Once there I can open a rift back through the medallion.

"So, what do you say?"

The riders looked at each other. Their eyes met and it was decided.

The Gilnean grinned and the paladin gave a short sigh before nodding.

"We accept"

**A longer chapter this time. Hope you like it, remember to review if you see anything worth reviewing.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Argus, the Fel Bastion.**

Kil'jaeden slowly, hesitantly approached the throne room where his lord had sat for many years, weakened from the damage dealt by the guardian of Tirisfall, and the many battles with various Titanic creatures. Now, however, his spirit returned after possessing Medivh, and his power slowly returning after that burst of energy from the world that would soon be under the Dark Titan's palm. That is, it would be, if Kil'jaeden had not already begun to set up a scheme that would not only kill Sargeras, but all the Titans, making the Eredar the highest authority in all existence. The Legion would be supreme, with Kil'jaeden at its head.

As he reached the throne room he paused. He must find a way to slow the regeneration of Sargeras' power, while his strength was insufficient to defeat the Eredar. For now, it was best to keep the illusion of supplicance up, as the lesser demons serve Sargeras first, only obeying the Eredar as their tactics were undeniably superior to all but that of the Nathrezim.

The door opened and Kil'jaeden approached his master. "My lord" he said, his voice echoing across the massive chamber, making even him feel small. "Our efforts to bind and control this "Dark Master" figure are going well. He has taken the bait, I believe. Once he is freed from his prison, the resulting burst of this strange energy should be enough to bring you back to full power. We will be able to release him once the demons are able to bring an Orb of Domination through the portal. If we can subjugate even a small number of the local populace we can get them to summon demons powerful enough to destroy the seal on Malefor's prison. His.. strange power may be enough to empower us all. Not even the world that shelters my former "brother" will be enough to stop the Legion" This reminder of Azeroth made an old wound in his chest twinge. It had been dealt when he had attempted to enter Azeroth via the Sunwell, and had irritated him ever since.

"Indeed" came the response from the throne. The flames that burned in Sargeras seemed to have died down, becoming little more than embers, giving the throne room a strange, orange colour, contrasting with the fel-tinged metal that made up most of the room. It seemed that when he had awaoken, the surge of power he had experienced was temporary. Most other demons were having a similar experience, seeming weaker, possibly from withdrawal.

The Legion needed this strange power, and they would get it, one way or another.

**Dun-Dun-Duuuuuun. Review any mistakes. Sargeras is smaller than he would be canonically because plot device Please point out how stupid I am. I deserve it.**


	4. Chapter 4

Warfang, about 100 meters in the air.

"By the Light!" roared the paladin.

"Mother!" cried the Gilnean.

"Do something!" the Gilnean screamed"Use your oh so holy powers, you dimwit!" he roared at the armoured rider.

"Alright, alright!". With that, he said a short prayer, blocking out the feeling of falling and the sound of the wind rushing in his ears. A sphere of holy energy surrounded him.

"YOU FORGOT ABOUT SOMETHING!" the Gilnean screamed.

He muttered another prayer and a icon of a crown and a blue aura surrounded the Gilnean just as the ground rushed up to meet them. The divine shield had protected the paladin, and the Blessing of protection had spared the Gilnean becoming a pool of gore. There was an audible crunch from underneath them.

They looked up and saw a crowd of dragons of various colours, all staring straight at them. Swirls of what appeared to be ash swirled around them in the light breeze. The supplies they had brought in the gryphon's saddlebags, which they had taken with them,leaving the gryphons in Wrathion's care, were now scattered around them.

Most, if not all, were damaged by the fall, and were all around them, boxes broke open, water containers burst, and there was a bottle of what was presumably wine smashed to their right. Thankfully, the bags that they had strapped to their belts were intact, containing a very valuble book the Gilnean had bought not five days earlier, and the paladins secret flask of potent ale.

"Derek..." the paladin muttered.

"I know" the Gilnean, Derek, replied. "I think we just angered the locals".

The shields faded. They heard a whistling sound and Derek fell to the ground unconscious.

The paladin spun and saw a dart hit the only place in his armour which was not plated, hitting him dead on the cheek. The world was black before he hit the ground.

Warfang jail.

Derek of Gilneas awoke on a cold, stone surface. He could feel metal on his wrist and ankles. He opened his eyes and blinked, adjusting to the gloom. He saw what he assumed to be a jail cell, with the only light coming from a small torch outside the cell. He blinked again and saw that it was actually a small, winged creature, staring straight at him.

"Skinny's awake" it said. There was a shifting in the gloom, and Derek saw eight pairs of eyes glinting slightly in the darkness.

Derek stood up slowly, and heard chains clanking. He looked at his wrists and saw that they were shackled to the wall. Derek spoke quickly and loudly. "Who are you? Why are you doing this? Where's Whagard? What did you do to him?"

He looked around, reaching for the bags that normally hung from his belt, which were absent, as was his staff, normally strapped to his back.

"Where's my stuff?"

"QUIET!" boomed a voice from one of the larger shadows. "We will ask the questions here!"

Another voice, talking so quickly it was hard to understand, said "Terrador, do you really think this is necessary to put these strangers in this situation? Yes, I'll concede they look like apes but they seem far too different to be-"

"I understand that, Volteer" replied the first voice. "Nevertheless, they interrupted Ignitus' funeral, and we cannot take this lightly"

There was more clanking of chains and the paladin spoke up, from another cell across the hall from Derek's.

"That was a funeral? By the Light, we had no idea! A mistake in the spell that brought us here, I'm sure. We had no intention of doing anything of the sort!"

Derek cleared his throat and added "Can we have some light? I appreciate Mr. Torch-bug here, but I guess we don't see in the dark as well as you"

There was a snigger from the darkness.

"Who're you calling torch bug? Shut up, Cynder"

Cynder. The name resonated in Derek's memory, but he could not tell where he had heard it.

"Can we get some light?" he repeated.

The first voice, Terrador, presumably, said "Very well, Fernus, if you don't mind..."

There was a burst of flame from the darkness, igniting unseen braziers hanging from the ceiling. The shadows were illuminated, revealing six dragons, four adults, and two juveniles, who coudn't have grown to the requirements of being a drake yet.

He took them in slowly. A large green, a slightly smaller red, a medium sized blue and a bronze of the same size. The younger ones were... a twilight, male with a golden wing membranes and underbelly , and a female black, with magenta wings and underbelly. Derek heard Whagard gasp.

Eyes not leaving the dragon, Derek said "Whagard, I think thats.."

She spoke up for the first time; "Thats what? Why are you staring at me?"

Derek looked away and saw a Whagard's sword and shield, with most of his armour, with Derek's staff and bags including, thankfully, the one that contained the book, lying on a wooden shelf, adjacent to Whagard's cell, with Wrathion's medallion lying on the edge of it.

"Hey, our stuff!" Derek said, changing the subject. He pointed at the shelf.

The paladin took the oppurtunity to speak up.

"Why are you doing this? I understand we interrupted this, Ignitus' funeral, but does it herald locking us up like this? You said we had a simalarity to...apes, wasn't it?

The bronze dragon spoke, "I agree that locking you up is questionable at best, but yes, you do look remarkably similar to apes. Just straight backed, less fur... I do not believe you are apes. If you were, then how you survived conversion to grublins becomes the question, and then..."

"Alright, alright, we're mysterious, I get it. But if you could get us into less...cramped conditions, we would be happy to explain" interrupted Derek.

He was getting slightly claustrohobic in the small cell. "And what is it that is stopping you from talking here?" This came from the blue drake, who talked as if Derek was a child.

"I hate cramped spaces, and it's hard to concentrate with shackles digging into my wrist". He laughed. "It's not like you can keep us here anyway"

The insect looked at him. "How are you gonna get out then, skinny?"

"I'll show you" Derek said with another laugh.

He started chanting, reciting words that the had learned years before, in his home of Gilneas, from an insane man who believed to hold the "forbidden secrets" of the warlock's craft. Of course, when the wall had fallen, the fact that these "Secrets" were almost common knowledge if one sought them out, had quite eliminated the charm of being a part of a "Secret organization"

Runes sprang to life on the ground, purple symbols flowing from the circle at his feet to the circle above his head, and vice versa.

The dragons and the insect stared, hesitant about stopping him, and curious about what he was doing, and how. When the spell was finished, a felguard appeared, and at a gesture from Derek, swung its axe at the cell bars, cleaving through them like butter.

The cut segments fell to the ground with a clang. Derek could have easily walked out if he had wanted to. He gestured to his chains, and the felguard cleaved them too.

"Voíla! Our method of escape! Now, if you would be so kind as to unchain my friend, we will explain ourselves"

The dragons turned away from him, and he heard them whispering, though he coudn't make out the words. At a nod from the green drake, the cell door opened, seemingly by itself. Derek didn't quite see the point, what with the missing section and all.

Likewise, the cell Whagard was in opened. The Felguard moved to attack the dragons, but before it could raise its axe, Derek dismissed it with a brief incantation.

"Now then, can we talk somewhere more...civil?" "Very well" said the green.

"Good, now then..."

He walked past them, ignoring the dragon's looks of surprise and grabbed his bags and the amulet from the shelf.

"But if we see anything out of the ordinary, then..." The green dragon was cut short by the insect.

"Alright, alright, lets go already!"

Warfang, Dragon Temple.

By the time the group had reached the temple, it was dark, as, the guardians had explained to the humans they had been unconscious for several hours, after a (And they both found this hard to believe) cheetah named Hunter had tranquilized them.

Hunter had to leave then as he was under time constraints. The humans, seeing little other choice, told the dragons about their reason for coming to Avalar. They spent a few hours telling them some of their world's history, and about Wrathion. (Willfully leaving out Wrathion's request regarding Cynder)

"Well, thats all well and good," said the torch bug, or Sparx, as his name actually was, "But how can we believe all this? I mean, for all we know you guys are just.. What the.."

He was staring at Derek, who looked down and saw Wrathion's medallion, which he had put on, was glowing. He heard Wrathion's voice in his head.

Allow me to channel a spell through you, so I can show myself.

Derek hesitated, then complied, feeding power into the medallion. It started glowing brighter, and a see through apparition of Wrathion appeared in the middle of the circle they had formed during their conversation.

"Hello" he said cheerfully. Pleasure to finally make your aquaintance"

"This is amazing! Just downright stupendous! What form of sorcery- " said Volteer, and before he could carry on Wrathion answered.

"Everything my friends here have said is true. We are not these ape things, and we are assuredly not going to attack you. My friends have told you of the Burning Legion. Now we must tell you of the threat they pose to all of you. Their forces are gathering here, in this world. Slowly but surely. They only reason you have not yet been attacked yet is because of strange creatures that attack the Leigion at every turn, savage little undead creatures"

"Grublins" said Spyro, the twilight dragon, which is, according to the dragons, something that happens once every ten thousand years or so in this world. Again, the humans found this hard to believe.

"If thats what they are called, then yes. Grublins. However, the Leigion is taking over. Slowly but surely. It also appears that they have tried to enter this world before, but were somehow repelled. Its only recently, after the world was torn apart, that they can enter"

"And how, pray tell, can you tell that they tried to enter?" This came from the blue drake, Cyril, who, both Whagard and Derek had decided that he had some kind of superiority co,plex, and both of them disliked him.

"Traces of fel energy, and some form of rift in space in the atmosphere. It appears that someone or something opened a portal into some kind of pocket dimension, like the kind the ethereals use, but much bigger. It seems to contain various void creatures, some of which I've never seen before."

Whagard frowned. "How can you tell?"

"The ethereals can accomplish wonders with enough gold. It seems that pocket dimension was opened about 3 years or so ago, from the ethereal's calculations"

At that, Cynder, the black dragoness, (which was apparently due to corruption by Malefor,) looked straight at the floor, while the blue dragon cast a quick glance at her. Wrathion noticed this, but did not react to it.

"There is also some traces of fel energy around a mountain, in fact that same place has huge amounts of arcane and fel energy just drifting around it, like the whole place is some kind of conduit. It seems that something from this world tried to channel demonic energy from somewhere, or try to summon a powerful demon, possibly an Eredar or pit lord. It wasn't suifficient to summon it through the... well the magic field that surrounded this world, in a way like an airlock. Nothing magical in or out. It's something I've never seen before. The field isolated your world from the rest of ... everything, really. There was no way for the Legion to enter".

He looked around, as if to ensure that everyone understood him, and noticed that both Spyro and Cynder were practically asleep at this stage, eyes half closed. "I think we should adjourn this meeting for now. We can conclude this tomorrow. Remember, you owe us your story now"

"I second that" rumbled Terrrador. "We're all about to drift off. I will show you four to your rooms here"

"Really?" said Whagard. "You would do that after we interrupted the funeral? Wouldn't people want to attack imprison us?"

"They do, which is why you'll stay in your room until classes start and nobody will see you. We'll get you out when it's time, and continue this conversation. We will need to keep you under guard, of course.

He proceeded to show the humans, Spyro and Cynder to two rooms, one for the humans and one for Spyro and Cynder. The rooms, Terrador explained, were temporary until they could make a better plan for housing. The beds were basically large cushions, and there was two per room. Wrathion told Derek via the amulet that it was best if they talked during the morning while they waited for Terrador.


	5. Chapter 5

Core of Avalar.

A strange presence reached out for Malefor. Through his crystal prison, tugging at his mind. Inside of the crystal, Malefor's soul had been seperated from his physical body, as his captors, his old masters, were too weak to actually destroy either. His body's residual magic healed it so fast that it was impossible. The soul was stored in the core of the crystal, guarded by those of his masters. They did not speak to him, and generally ignored him, unless he attempted to escape, in which case they used some strange magic to torture him into submission. Now, some strange thing from outside the crystal was communicating with him. The new presence spoke to him, the voice filling his thoughts.

"Malefor. Malefor, wake up, damn you.." Malefor felt his guards stir.

"What are you?" Malefor responded, wasting no time with gaining any non essential information.

The method of communication was similar to how he had used magic to communicate with his troops and control the Destroyer, only he was not strong enough to trace this presence, not command it.

"I am Kil'jaeden, second in command to Sargeras, the Dark Titan, Lord of the Burning Legion."

Malefor tried to respond, but something stronger than him repressed his telepathy.

I have come to ask you for something. If we release you from this prison of yours, will you give us your assistance to conquer other worlds, after we aid you in conquering this one? We can grant you great power "

"The Burning Legion? Sargeras? Answer my question. What are you?" questioned Malefor.

"I am the commander of the Burning Leigion in my Lord's stead. That is was, the commander, as he was recently brought back to us, and we need your assistance, more specifically, your... brand of magic to bring him back to full strength"

"What will I get if I help you? Truly, speak no lies to me."

"Your freedom, and, when we have used this world for what we need it for, dominance over it"

Malefor's guards were aware of the conversation by now, and he could feel them watching him.

"I will contact you at a later time, and get an answer" said Kil'jaeden and his presence was gone.

Malefor smiled, or at least the mental equivalent. He had often speculated that outside of the Convexity "airlock" that had surrounded the world until there were other planets, possibly inhabited. If that traitor Cynder and the other purple dragon, Spyro, had not interrupted him then he would have had his perfect world, and he could have found and possibly even ruled these other worlds.

But no, he had been interrupted, and all his efforts were for nothing, thousands of years, wasted by creatures who had hardly lived twelve, if not less!

His anger had alerted the guards. As that strange magic began to shatter his resolve, he decided he was going to use this chance. Anything to destroy those whelps, and these pathetic spirits who imprisoned them here. As he fell to the magic, or at least, thought very hard about laughing, which, as he took satisfaction in, seemed to confuse - or even better, disturb- his guards.

?

The being that was known as the Storyteller looked up from the crack in the ground it was looking at. As time went on it found itself obsessing with minor details of its cell. This was odd, as normally it only cared about the bigger picture, the main story.

The details were for...

It heard a loud, low moan from the other side of the room. It raised its head slowly. Its power had been slowly returning over the past day, but he still couldn't manipulate the magical threads that held its physical form together like it could before it had been captured. It raised one hand, painfully, and a small sphere of purple light burst to life in his palm. It smiled. Convexity. Its own personal brand of magic.

It raised its hand up further, illuminating the cavern. for the first time The Storyteller noticed another set of chains. The one bound by those chains was... its counterpart. They stood for opposite things. It enjoyed big, important things. She obsessed over the minute detail. It made, she burned, she made, it razed

. She contained him. It freed itself. It trapped her, she freed herself. It was like some ancient game spanning hundreds of years.

And there she was, chained like It had been It stood slowly, power returning. Slowly, he took a step and fell. She would have to wait until it was strong enough to help her. It grinned at the turn in fate.

**Well, here is the next chapter and it has even more of the odd backstory. Review if you see anything worth reviewing.**


	6. Chapter 6

** Warfang, Dragon Temple.**

The two humans had woken up and had spent two hours listening to whatever was on the other side of the door. Wrathion had a short argument with the paladin over what they were going to do from here, but besides that, nothing of interest occured.

They heard the sound of a crowd walking through the corridors outside, many voices, some laughter and what sounded like a bell . After that , the crowd dispersed and soon after there was a knock the arch that dragons preferred over doors. The arch had two wooden panels that seperated at the slightest touch from the inside, but seemingly could not be opened from the outside, and was therefore open if the room was not occupied.

"Will you come out now?" came Terrador's voice. Derek walked over and touched the panel tentatively, and they both slid open.

"How do they work?" he asked.

"Mole workmanship. They are skilled at making things that work in strange ways. Now hurry up, class will be over if you wait any longer"

Mole? mouthed Derek to the paladin, who shrugged.

He walked off into the corridor and the humans followed. They walked with him for a while and then they entered the headmasters office, which was originally the center of the temple, in which the so called Pool of Visions resided. Around it were the guardians and the two younger dragons.

"Well then" said the bronze (or was it electric? This was confusing), Volteer. "We have told you our tale, now you must tell us more of yourselves, and what you believe we should proceed to do.

"Very well then" This came from Derek, who had spent much of the night discussing their course of action with Wrathion. He grinned at the paladin, who, not for the first time since they woke up that morning, sighed.

"If we must. I may as well start, considering you have to trust one of us" He chuckled as Derek stared daggers.

"I was born five years before the Dark Portal opened. My family and I lived in a small port town called town called Hasic. Therewas an encampment of the Knights of the Silver Hand close by, and I admit I was enamoured. My father was a zealous worshipper of the Light, and even though he was not paladin nor priest, he was the first to sign up when the portal opened. In the end, we all followed him, my mother and elder brother deciding that the family was best off coming with him. I don't know why, perhaps we would help repair armour or something. Regardless, as we closed in on the reigion now called Swamp of Sorrows, we were attacked by a small band of orcs. They must have been scouts, but never the less, they attacked and killed all but me. As they came close, I heard their breathing, smelt that foul stench..." He paused, closing his eyes.

"Then they were gone, swept aside by the light. Paladins, four in all, killed the eights orcs that were within an inch of killing me. They took me under their wing, so to speak, and then... well, I trained. For years I prayed and practiced until I was ready to take up the mantle of a paladin. And then I met Derek here, and the rest is...history."

Derek frowned and regarded Whagard with curiosity, before shrugging and saying; "You also forgot to mention how you were named" smirked Derek. "Please don't" he muttered under his breath. "So, it was a cold night, and his father was drinking, in celebration of the newborn paladin over here" "Don't, please" "And the child starts crying, so a guard shows up, to say, y'know, why is it crying? So his father says, drunk as hell, "What guard, and since they are all so drunk, they think that's what the child is going to be named. The end!"

Whagard's face flushed as the dragons laughed, either out of politeness or awkwardness.

"Well, that's my tale of woe. Why not say yours? I'm sure they want to know why you bark more so then laugh?"

Derek growled at the insult and said; "Fine. I was born in Gilneas, yes, that's kingdom that walled itself off. Then, after the rest of the world dealt with the Legion coming through the dark portal, and the Lich King, there was the Cataclysm, along with the curse of the Worgen" Derek snarled.

"Believe me when I tell you that when Deathwing flew out, no wall would have held him off. Hes a hundred times bigger than all of you. The reefs we had used as natural barriers from the sea shattered, the coasts began to flood and the curse began to spread.

"My family, we were fairly rich, if... reclusive. While most others, even prince Liam and king Greymane fought, we barricaded ourselves inside of our home. I had already learnt some of my craft's spells. Of course, a lowly imp.."

A spell conjured an imp from the nether.

"Could not hold back that many worgen for more than a minute. One bit me before we fled"

A tear formed in his eye. "I turned as they ran. We were just out of the city, we would have made it. Then I felt this urge to... kill. I felt a burning, then.. I wasn't in control. I tore them apart, tooth and nail, litereally. My father, my mother, my sister. Torn apart. Then, I went wild. Just another feral worgen, running through the Gilnean plains. Then the Night elves found me, along with the others. We were saved and then we were brought to Darnassus. I was ashamed and angered at myself for hurting them. I left, plain and simple, and headed for Stormwind. I hated everything I had done, I wanted a fresh start. I met with Whagard here and Wrathion can tell you the rest"

"Well" said the bronze dragon, Volteer. "That is quite a momentous, amazing, stupendous tale, as is this whole situation. It is hard to comprehend that this is reality, and yet..."

"It is time for a real discussion" stated Terrador, his voice booming. "Tell us exactly why you are here, and what you plan to do here"

Let me project another image through you.

Derek fuelled the medallion, and Wrathion appeared, shimmering in the air above the pool of visions.

"It is time to reveal our plan, friends" Cyril's eyes narrowed, just for an instant.

"It is a simple enough affair, in all honesty. In order for you and your city to survive the Legion's inevitable assault you must learn how to fight demons effectively. There are almost no better teachers either. Derek can summon an almost endless amount of demons for you to practice on"

Derek snorted. "I can summon all the damn demons, and I do mean all of them. Fel, I could summon a pit lord if you gave me enough time. Almost endless is an understatement"

Wrathion and Whagard sighed in union.

"And, as I was saying, the paladin can show you how to fight them. He has been doing it his whole life now, more or less"

Whagard laughed and said "I could show them how to punt an imp about a hundred feet and how to stop looking at a succubus"

"And how would that be beneficial?" asked Cyril.

The duo blushed slightly. "I'll tell you when you're older" murmered Derek.

"This proposal is a difficult one to agree to" rumbled Terrador. Derek momentarily wondered if the green drake could do anything other than rumble. "We still cannot be sure whether or not we can trust a word you say, have said, or will say". His eyes narrowed. "We believed this war to be over. Nobody will be happy to learn of another threat, especially not if it comes at the word of creatures so similar to apes"

An idea came to the paladin, like a Light-given blessing.

"I know!" said Whagard, standing. "Where do you keep the wounded? No war is without its injuries, surely."

Cyril laughed. "I'm afraid we cannot trust you with the wounded, nowhere near them. We need to keep them safe, like everyone in the city. I personally don't believe a word you people have said. Prove to us you are not simply apes under some illusion!"

"I think we should give them a chance" said Cynder, causing Derek to release a breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding.

"What did you want to do with the wounded?" asked Spyro. Whagard removed one gauntlet. "Pass me a blade, if you would. I want to show you" Cynder raised her tail, which was shaped, and as sharp as, a bladed weapon.

"It'll do" murmered the paladin, standing up and cutting his right palm on the blade. Blood ran freely. He sat back down in his former position. He held up his palm, showing them all the cut. Then, he offered a silent prayer to the Light and his left palm began to glow, not brightly enough to force you to look away, but enough to leave an imprint when you closed your eyes. He passed his left hand over his bleeding palm, and when he removed it, the cut was sealed, not even scarred.

There was a pause, then the apparition of Wrathion shuddered, like a disturbed reflection. "Damn" he said, his voice unusually quiet. "Give me a minute. That insuffereble prince of yours won't..." the image faded.

Another pause, much longer, before Volteer broke the silence. "I have a shortage of red gems recently, this might be just what we need, he could save lives, possibly even render traditional medicine irrelevant. We could.."

"Yeah yeah yeah"interrupted the dragonfly. "Let's end this boring conversation and see some fun stuff" He rose into the air and gestured at the door. "This way to the infirmary!"

The humans both hesitated and looked questioningly at Terrador, who nodded. "We'll be keeping a close eye on you. One thing out of the ordinary, and neither of you will see another day outside of prison. Understood?"

"Understood" said Whagard. Derek just shrugged and smirked. They stood up and followed the dragons for around ten minutes, leaving the building and circling around and reentering in another door. As the humans learned, the infirmary, academy, Temple and dormitories were all one building in the centre of the city. Eventually, the shouts of pain from the infirmary were audible. Whagard pondered at the odd architecture, before entering the arch. Derek examined the cobblestone floors as he walked through, not paying an particular attention to the others.

**Shorter chapter. Hooray. Review if you see any mistakes.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Argus, the Fel Bastion.**

Kil'jaeden slowly, hesitantly approached the throne room where his lord had sat for many years, weakened from the damage dealt by the guardian of Tirisfall, and the many battles with various Titanic creatures. Now, however, his spirit returned after possessing Medivh, and his power slowly returning after that burst of energy from the world that would soon be under the Dark Titan's palm. That is, it would be, if Kil'jaeden had not already begun to set up a scheme that would not only kill Sargeras, but all the Titans, making the Eredar the highest authority in all existence. The Legion would be supreme, with Kil'jaeden at its head.

As he reached the throne room he paused. He must find a way to slow the regeneration of Sargeras' power, while his strength was insufficient to defeat the Eredar. For now, it was best to keep the illusion of supplicance up, as the lesser demons serve Sargeras first, only obeying the Eredar as their tactics were undeniably superior to all but that of the Nathrezim.

The door opened and Kil'jaeden approached his master. "My lord" he said, his voice echoing across the massive chamber, making even him feel small. "Our efforts to bind and control this "Dark Master" figure are going well. He has taken the bait, I believe. Once he is freed from his prison, the resulting burst of this strange energy should be enough to bring you back to full power. We will be able to release him once the demons are able to bring an Orb of Domination through the portal. If we can subjugate even a small number of the local populace we can get them to summon demons powerful enough to destroy the seal on Malefor's prison. His.. strange power may be enough to empower us all. Not even the world that shelters my former "brother" will be enough to stop the Legion" This reminder of Azeroth made an old wound in his chest twinge. It had been dealt when he had attempted to enter Azeroth via the Sunwell, and had irritated him ever since.

"Indeed" came the response from the throne. The flames that burned in Sargeras seemed to have died down, becoming little more than embers, giving the throne room a strange, orange colour, contrasting with the fel-tinged metal that made up most of the room. It seemed that when he had awaoken, the surge of power he had experienced was temporary. Most other demons were having a similar experience, seeming weaker, possibly from withdrawal.

The Legion needed this strange power, and they would get it, one way or another.

**Dun-Dun-Duuuuuun. Review any mistakes. Sargeras is smaller than he would be canonically due to this being simply another avatar of his will. Please point out how stupid I am. I deserve it.**


	8. Chapter 8

** Warfang Infirmary.**

Despite the glances and glares that the humans got from the various dragons, another look towards the guardians seemed to soothe their minds. When they got to the Infirmary, the finally saw the scope of the injuries caused by the war. Dragons sporting wounds ranging from burns to missing limbs lay on straw mattresses, some with visitors surrounding them, others seemed bored, while still others shouted their agony. Then, they began to notice the entrance of the humans, guardians and Spyro and Cynder.

"It's the Saviours Of the Skies!", shouted someone.

"Its the Terror! Someone kill it!" shouted another. Cynder sighed and looked down, a tear forming in one eye.

"APES!" roared one, near the door.

The ensuing shouts of outrage and confusion was quickly ended by one loud roar from Terrador. He seemed to have complete authority as he stated "All those who wish to harm another dragon may leave Warfang now. As for these two, they are not apes, but humans, and have pledged their aid to us in exchange for housing. Now, be quiet!"

The paladin found himself in awe of the green dragon's authority, while Derek thought on how easy it was for him to cow such a large and boisterous crowd. Evidently he was an important political figure.

Volteer turned to the paladin. "Best if you begin now, before they start to question his statement".

Whagard nodded and walked over to a yellow dragon with a large gap in his chest, presumably after they had been cauterized.

"Get away, monster!" spat the drake, writhing, before yelling in pain as the wound brushed against the mattress.

The paladin kneeled by the dragon and said calmly; "Allow me to help with that" He placed his hand on the wound and began to pray aloud, his hand glowing with the Holy Light.

"Though you may be unworthy, the Light shall welcome you, corrupted, you shall be cleansed. Your past is nothing, the Light loves you anyway. None are worthy, all are able. Now bathe in its Holy glory!" He took his hand away from perfectly formed scales, shiny and pristine, as if never damaged. "By the Ancestors" whispered the dragon.

"Bloody idiot", said Derek, thinking aloud.

The paladin stood and walked over to another dragon, this one with a horribly torn wing. Again, his hand shined, and again, the sound closed without a trace.

Whispers began amongst the wounded, and amongst the guardians.

"What is this?"

"The ape can heal at a touch!"

"It's a miracle!"

"I told you we could trust them" muttered Volteer to Cyril, who harrumphed.

Then chaos erupted. Wounded dragons leapt from their beds, attempting to get to this miracle worker. Whagard continued to heal the dragon on the bed next to the dragon he had just healed, until a healthy earth dragon who must have been visiting, ploughed through the injured dragons and tried to force the paladin to heal his friend. The claw he grabbed the paladin with scraped across his armour, scratching it and producing a screeching sound.

The paladin shouted in rage and raised his arm, which was now glowing more brightly, then released the gathered Light at the offending dragon. He screamed in pain and the magic seared his body. The chaos ceased.

"Now," he said loudly. "All those who truly require healing, get back into your beds", He turned to the drake who had attacked him, who was lying in a heap on the floor.

"Sometimes" he whispered in the drakes ear, or at least where he thought it was located. "Justice demands healing. Sometimes, on the other hand, justice demands retribution. Go home, I refuse to help idiots"

The dragon jumped to his feet and ran, now sporting a long, thin burn on his chest. As the crowd shuffled back to their beds, Derek said to the dragons; "He really is a zealot. That is an almost direct quote from Uther Lightbringer"

"Can you heal as he can?" asked Cyril, again adopting a condescending voice. "Not really, but I might be able to help". His eyes flashed green as he began to cast a spell, summoning a Soulwell, drawing the attention of many of the dragons in the chamber.

"Line up in an orderly fashion, please, if you so much as try to skip in line or push forward, I'll do worse things to you then he ever will, okay? Okay. Form up!"

Wounded dragons who were not in the direct path of the paladin's slow march stood on damaged legs. Those who had visitors stayed still, asking them to get whatever was being offered from the stone font that had seemingly appeared from nowhere.

Derek noticed this and shouted out "No point in coming if you're healthy. You can't carry these things"

The paladin looked over at the gathering crowd. "I wish you wouldn't use fel to do the Light's job" he was panting, the constant channeling of the Light exhausting him. The first dragon reached the well, a female with tattered wings and a bandaged leg. She raised her front leg , avoiding putting weight on the damaged leg. She scooped out a Healthstone between two claws and regarded it with curiosity.

"How does this.." she began.

"Just crush it" replied Derek. She crushed it underfoot and green light pulsed up her leg, before spreading over her entirely, closing the wound on her leg. "T-thank you" she said, then promptly left the chamber. Apparently you were only meant to stay in the infirmary for as long as you needed it.

"Wait" said Volteer. "You say his healing power comes from these Holly Lights, yes?"

"The Holy Light" corrected Derek, watching as another Healthstone was crushed, this time healing a shattered tail. "Yes, well, in any case, where does your healing come from? You said that you practice the control of demons?"

Derek hesitated before replying; "Demonic magic can be used for good too. Healthstones are basically solidified demon soul. No need to worry!" he added hastily as they stared at him. "Its converted to pure magic and stored in it. I manifest it in the Soulwell and it turns into Healthstones. No risk involved".

They didn't look completely convinced, but nevertheless, they allowed the injured dragons to take the stones. Eventually, the disabled dragons were, at worst, able to walk and fly with ease. Some wounds were either too small to warrant the paladin's attention, or were simply overlooked by the healing power in the Healthstones, the spell prioritising the more important wounds.

While Volteer, Terrador, Cynder and Spyro both toook this healing as a sign of good will, trusting the humans slightly more because of it, but Cyril remained sceptical, which was made apparent by the constant glances he made towards Whagard and Derek. As they left the infirmary, Cyril said loudly; "Terrador, Volteer, may I speak to you in private for a moment?"

He walked slightly off to the side and the three dragons assumed what is called (mostly by soldiers from the war against Malefor) the Guardian Huddle, in which the four Guardians press shoulder to shoulder and raise their wings, preventing anybody outside the huddle from hearing what they are discussing. However, at present there were only three Guardians present, and as such it looked and felt rather silly. It still managed to block out what they were saying, leaving the duo to look at them quizically, before the paladin pulled Derek aside and muttered into his ear "I don't trust the blue one" he said simply.

Derek looked into his friend's eves and said quietly, casting a nervous look around at the dragons; "Well, he has the disposition of a blood elf after getting his hair done up, but really, I don't think we can trust any of them. Not yet, and until we are sure, let's just do what Wrathion tells us to do, alright?" Dereek glanced up and saw the huddle had dispersed, and the Guardians, along with Spyro and Cynder, were staring at them.

They stepped away from each other and Terrador spoke. "We have reached the conclusion that you can teach your first "class" if you want to call it that, tomorrow. The populace knows about you now" He nodded towards a crowd of around twenty dragons and ten of the mole creatures, all staring at the Azerothians.

"BOO!" roared Derek, raising his arms up dramatically. Instanty, the whole crowd flinched and most took a step back. As one, Sparx and Derek burst out laughing, with Sparx flying over to the warlock and raising his hand, as if expecting a high five. Derek raised his thumb in response, which the dragonfly promptly smacked. they were quickly becoming fast friends, much to Spyro and Whagard's disdain.

There was muttering amongst the crowd, and among the Guardians too, but Whagard, despite disapproving slightly, grinned, along with Spyro and Cynder.

Something seemed.. off about the way they looked at each other. It took a moment before he recognised it. He had often seen that same look, most often on the faces of teenagers during Love is In the Air, a popular holiday that tended to drive Whagard and Derek away from major cities just to avoid the smell of cologne and perfume. His nose clenched at the thought.

He nudged Derek and motioned towards them subtly. Derek frowned for an instant before smiling and nodding.

"APE!" screamed a voice from the crowd.

By the time they had turned to the voice, three red dragons, both around Spyro and Cynder's age, stood behind them.

"Look, for the las-" started Derek.

"We will deal with it" snapped Terrador quickly. "All of you, GO! This is none of your business. These creatures are not apes, and are here on.. diplomatic business." Most of the crowd left then, leaving a mole (who must have been there before the crowd formed, as he proceeded to sweep the street with a brush that seemed unwieldy in his hands) and the three red dragons.

The one in the middle, which wore a heart necklace (Again reminding them of Love is In the Air) spoke quickly in a ridiculously high pitched voice "Y-you are allowing apes to move unimpaired through the city? What kind of Guardians are you?"

"The kind who can get you banished from the city for insulting them" said Sparx, eliciting a snicker from Cynder and a small grin from Derek. The other red drakes, seemingly male, snarled, while the female with the necklace actuallt squealed. Even the paladin coudn't keep a straight face, while Derek and Sparx burst out laughing.

"Tell ya what" said the warlock, straightening up.

"You piss off, or I'll burn you" His right hand ignited in black fire as he said so, and he held it up to the dragons.

They turned tail and ran, much to Derek's amusement.

"You shouldn't have done that.." murmered Terrador. That earned a laugh from Derek. "If I had a copper for every time someone had told me that, I could pay an army to come over here and fix this problem." Whagard rolled his eyes, as did Cyril. "Let's just go" said Cynder, who was yet again fatigued by the minor exercise of standing for so long. Spyro agreed, and they proceeded to walk back to the Temple.

**Well that's the last chapter that I have went over several times already. All new stuff from here, yay.**


End file.
